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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28832970">does anyone in this family know the meaning of sleep?</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelyheartsclub_com/pseuds/lonelyheartsclub_com'>lonelyheartsclub_com</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Murder Most Unladylike Series - Robin Stevens</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, domestic fluff!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 13:15:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>771</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28832970</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelyheartsclub_com/pseuds/lonelyheartsclub_com</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>bertie wells is 31, and he's doing okay. he has a husband, and he has kids, and even though every day could be their last, they're okay.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harold Mukherjee/Bertie Wells</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>does anyone in this family know the meaning of sleep?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bertie sat up. It felt like it was the middle of the night, and yet Inej, Harold and his' daughter, was still wailing as loud as she could. Bertie wondered if he was like that when he was a child, constantly keeping everyone up. Nonetheless, he pulled himself out of bed and picked up his daughter. She cooed and reached up to wack him in the face. </p><p>"Inej, darling, please don't cry." he whispered, and her face screwed up again. She frowned, and Bertie walked over to the kitchen, humming a tune to keep Inej quiet. There sat Harold, who was drinking something. He looked over at his husband (they weren't really married, but he hyphenated his name, and they lived together.) and he grinned in amusement.</p><p>"Up for a late night snack, are we, sweetheart?" Bertie teased, handing their daughter to Harold and sitting himself up on one of the kitchen stools.</p><p>"I couldn't sleep, Bertie." Harold said, taking another sip of his hot chocolate. "I can't stop thinking about how lucky we are. It's so strange, but we really are. We've got Inej, and we've got Felix, and we didn't die in the war-"</p><p>"We were on the edge of that." Bertie chipped in, and Inej laughed, as if she could understand him. Then, there was a knock at the door and Felix poked his head through the crack in the door. </p><p>Felix was their son of about 3 years, and he was a mischievous carbon copy of Bertie, but with brown hair. He looked quite like his namesake, Felix Mountfitchet, Bertie's uncle. Inej was almost 3 months, and she took after Harold, down to the curls of dark hair and the dark skin, but especially the smile. Bertie always thought that both their smiles could light a whole room up. </p><p>"Ha, ha." Harold dryly responded. "Felix, <em>jaanu</em>, it's late, you should be asleep." Harold said to his son, in the voice Bertie liked to call his, "commanding parental voice" and Felix frowned.</p><p>"But you and papa are awake! And so is Inej, and Inej is a baby. How come she gets to stay up and I don't?" Felix huffed. Harold held out his hands after passing Inej to Bertie, and Felix pulled himself up on Harold's shirt, sitting on his father's lap. </p><p>"Inej still needs more attention, since she's still very young. You're bigger than her, so I suppose one might say you could be a tad more independent than her." Harold said, looking at his son. </p><p>"But I'm not tired, dad." Felix said, a confused look on his face.</p><p>"Oh, look, Bertie, he takes just after you!" Harold joked, nudging Bertie. </p><p>"Very funny, Harold. Sleep is for the weak and everyone in this room knows it." </p><p>"Love, don't let Felix hear you say that, or else you'll find that he stays up all night because he doesn't want to seem weak." he said, playing with Inej's hands.  </p><p>"Mm, teach them young, I suppose." Bertie shot back, earning himself a glare from Harold.</p><p>"With all due respect," Harold leaned over to kiss his husband. "Absolutely not." Bertie looked at his watch, and it was very nearly 7 o'clock. "I swear no one in this family knows the meaning of sleep."</p><p>"Speaking of which...well, it's almost morning now, so I may as well start on breakfast."</p><p>"Absolutely not. The kids deserve to have a diet with seasoning." Harold grinned, and Bertie gasped in mock hurt. </p><p>"Harold, how dare you!" Bertie said, keeping his tone. Felix tugged at Harold's trouser leg. He wanted to be picked up. </p><p>"Bertie, hold Inej for a moment." Harold asked, and he threw him up in the air and caught him a couple times. Felix shrieked with laughter, and Bertie reprimanded Harold for safety reasons. </p><p>Harold tried to make scrambled eggs, and he was very nearly going to get it, when Felix came running and the pan fell on the floor and burned Harold's hand. Harold tried very hard not to swear, but it failed. "Fu-"</p><p>"Harold, kids." Bertie cut in, grinning.</p><p>"They'll be swearing eventually, Bertie. Let me live." Harold teased, running his hand under the tap. He then started on a string of words in Bengali. </p><p>"Harold, you better not be swearing in Bengali." Bertie reprimanded, mocking Harold's stern tone. Harold stuck his tongue out, before turning to Felix and telling him about why running in the kitchen is never a good idea.</p><p>Bertie leaned against the doorframe, Inej in his husband's arms, Felix tugging at his dad's trouser leg again to see what happened to his hand.</p><p>Bertie could only smile. </p>
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